"Not really," Bobby answered vaguely.

"I got eyes," M.J. said.

"It was nothing."

"Yeah? Didn't look like nothin' to me."

Before they could get into it further, there was a commotion at Nadia's table. Her surly cousin was standing over her, screaming in Spanish while shaking his fists in her face.

Bobby was instantly on his feet, followed by M.J., who was trailed by the girl in the pink jeans.

Shit! Bobby thought. The last thing we need is a scene on our opening night.

He rushed over to her table, quickly grabbing the Latin man's flailing arms. "Cool it," he warned sternly. "You're about to get thrown out on your sorry ass."

The Latin man glared at him, mean eyes glittering with anger, garlic breath filling the air. "You can keep the puta here," he snarled. "I'm leaving." Then, hurling a stream of expletives at Nadia, he shook free of Bobby and headed for the staircase.

M.J. went to go after the man. Bobby stopped him. "Don't even bother," he said. "No scenes. Let the asshole go." He turned to Nadia. "What the hell happened?"

Lowering her eyes, she looked away. "I warned you he had a bad temper," she muttered. "He was upset that I was talking to you. He was under the impression that I was flirting."

M.J. threw Bobby a knowing look. "This one's all yours, Bobby," he said, hanging on to the girl in the pink jeans, obviously his captive for the night. "Trouble, trouble, trouble. I don't want no part of it."

"Get lost, then. I'm not asking you to get involved," Bobby said, sitting down beside Nadia.

"Suits me," M.J. said, adding a succinct, "Oh yeah, an' don't forget you got a girlfriend at home."

Bobby threw him a warning look, and M.J. and the girl in pink jeans took off.

"Well," Bobby said to Nadia, "seems like your cousin's a real charmer."

"I'm so sorry," she murmured.

"Not your fault."

"No," she said, quickly agreeing. "It is not my fault."

"Do you live with him?" Bobby asked.

She shook her head, thick hair swirling. "We are in Chicago visiting his mama-my mama's sister. He is staying with her. I am at a hotel."

"Okay, this is the deal," Bobby said, deciding that M.J. was right, Nadia was trouble waiting to happen. "I'll put you in a cab, and the two of you can work out your problems in the morning. Sound good?"

"Please," she said, hesitating for a moment. "Can you come with me?"

"That's not possible, Nadia. I'm kinda busy-" he began to say.

"Please," she implored once more, her brown eyes gazing into his. "I would feel so much safer. I am a little afraid of being alone."

He was torn. What was he supposed to do? Nadia was obviously upset, so how could he simply dump her in a cab and leave it at that? Denver would probably want him to make sure the woman got home safely. Denver was all about treating women with respect.

"Okay," he said, a tad reluctantly. "I'd better tell my partner, then I'll drop you at your hotel."

She touched his arm, her eyes wide and grateful. "Thank you so much, Bobby."

M.J. took the news with a cynical laugh. "You're kidding, right?"

"I'll be no more than fifteen minutes."

"Is that how long it takes you to get laid?"

"C'mon, M.J., it's not what you think," Bobby explained. "She's engaged, and she's upset. So I'm playing Good Samaritan. That's all there is to it."

"Yeah," M.J. replied, rolling his eyes. "An' I got property I can sell you in Afghanistan."

"Fuck you."

"Enjoy."

"Double fuck you."

Outside the club, the parking valet brought Bobby's rental car to the front. Nadia climbed in. Bobby noticed a flash of bare thigh, and hurriedly averted his eyes. He thought of Denver and how much he missed her. They'd be reunited soon, and all would be right in the world. He'd call her as soon as he was back at the club.

He got behind the wheel and started the car. "How come the man you're engaged to isn't here with you?" he asked.

"It's a family trip," she replied. "My fiance lives in New York. He's an architect, a wonderful, kind man. You would like him."

"Seems like a great profession. Why doesn't your cousin approve of him?"

"Because, unfortunately, he is divorced," she sighed. "And divorce is frowned upon in our culture. My cousin is a very proper man. All he wants is the best for me."

"I get it."

"And you?" she asked. "What is your situation? Are you married?"

"Almost. I live with the greatest girl, the love of my life."

"She's a very fortunate woman."

They rode the rest of the way in silence until they reached her hotel. There, a doorman stepped forward and opened the passenger door.

Bobby waited for Nadia to get out. She didn't move.

"Uh, we're here," he said at last. "You'll be okay now. I'll say good night."

"Bobby." Her voice was no more than a whisper.

"Yes?" he said patiently.

"Would you mind coming upstairs with me?"

"Look, I'm sorry," he said, clearing his throat. "The thing is, I'm in a hurry. I've got to get back to the club pronto. It's opening night and they need me. M.J. is waiting."

"It's simply that ... well, I do not wish to sound like a foolish little girl, but when I was very young, a man molested me in a hotel, and ever since then..." She trailed off.

Oh yes! Bobby thought. She might look like she has it all together, but this is one broken bird. Shit!

"Maybe you can ask security to escort you," he suggested.

"I can't do that," she said, her lower lip trembling. "It was a security guard who molested me. I was only thirteen at the time, too young to understand what was happening."

"Where was your mom? Wasn't she watching out for you?"

"She was waiting for me in our room. I was molested in the elevator on my way downstairs to buy a candy bar. It was a terrible experience."

"Jesus!" Bobby exclaimed. Beauty on the outside, a frightened little girl within.

"I know," she said softly. "Ever since then..."

"Okay, okay," he said. "I'll take you up."

He wasn't pleased, but then again, she was genuinely upset. How in all good conscience could he abandon her?

The valet took his car, and he escorted Nadia to the elevator. She clung to his arm as if they were a couple. And what a couple! Heads turned.

He was getting impatient, yet at the same time he couldn't help noticing the rise of her breasts in the slinky red dress and how enticing she smelled.

Calm down, he told himself. You're simply being Mr. Good Guy. Nothing's going on here.

Once they reached the door of her suite, he once again attempted to say good-bye. Nadia was having none of it. "Please, Bobby," she pleaded. "Can you come in for a moment and check out the closet and bathroom? I know I sound crazy, but anyone could be hiding."

"You're kidding?"

"It was a frightening experience, the thing that happened to me-I fear I'll never get over it."

Checking his watch, Bobby realized that it was past eleven. He'd already been gone for half an hour, and if he didn't get back soon, M.J. would definitely accuse him of getting laid. That's all he needed.

Tomorrow morning he'd tell Denver what happened, and how innocent it all was. She'd understand; she always did.

Reluctantly, he entered Nadia's suite, dutifully checking out the bathroom and opening the closet doors. By the time he was finished, she was standing in the living room proffering him a drink.

"What's this?" he asked.

"Vodka," she said boldly. "For luck. For love. For the future of our loved ones. And," she added quietly, "for me to thank you so very much. If my fiance was here, he would thank you too."

She picked up her own glass and clinked it with his.

One drink. What could it hurt?

CHAPTER EIGHT.

Hyton Abbey was Athena's family's ancestral home. Located several miles from Windsor Castle, it was a magnificent if somewhat crumbling country estate. Half of the abbey was open to the public on weekends, while the rest of the time Athena's esteemed parents, Lord and Lady Hyton-Smythe, lived there in solitary splendor. Well, not exactly splendor, because money was extremely tight-currently they were down to employing a measly four servants to take care of the rambling abbey, which boasted fourteen bedrooms, numerous bathrooms, and a couple of random ghosts.

The first time Max visited, she'd had an "encounter," which had totally freaked her out. She was washing her hands in one of the downstairs powder rooms when she'd sensed someone standing behind her while fingertips played tag on her shoulders. Startled, she'd spun around, only to find that there was no one there. Running from the room, she'd bumped straight into Lord Henry Hyton-Smythe, who'd chuckled when she'd told him what had happened.

"No worries, child," he'd boomed with a rakish leer. "We have a couple of resident ghosts here. They'll do you no harm, although I must say, they certainly enjoy frightening our guests."

Max was speechless. Ghosts! Why hadn't Athena warned her?

That evening while they were all sitting in the dining room, the entire Hyton-Smythe family had enjoyed a hearty laugh at her expense.

"I wonder if it was Great-aunt Sephora. Or perhaps it was the stable boy," Athena giggled. "The story is that Sephora stabbed him with a pitchfork back in the eighteen hundreds, and they've both been hanging around ever since."

"I bet it was the stable boy," Tim, Athena's brother, intoned, his thin face lighting up. "Nothing he likes better than watching a pretty girl pee!"

Lady Harriet Hyton-Smythe roused herself from a half-drunken stupor, her dangly silver earrings clinking below her droopy earlobes. "Stop being so disgusting," she slurred. "Max is a guest in our home."

Athena was totally into spending weekends at the abbey with her family. They were an eccentric group-her brother, Tim, was a cross-dresser who refused to admit he was gay. Lady Harriet started drinking in the morning and was never finished until she slumped her way up to bed past midnight. Lord Henry spent most of his time checking out his gun collection, going hunting with his cronies, and ogling the prettiest tourists who visited to take the tour.

Sometimes Max considered not going with Athena for the weekend, instead opting to hang out by herself in the flat they shared in Kensington. But Athena always managed to persuade her to go. The Hyton-Smythes were the closest thing to family Max had in London, so why not spend time with them?

Once a week she called home. No more than once a week, because she didn't want her parents thinking of her as being clingy. Lucky was okay with it. Lennie complained that he'd like to hear from her more often.

Her parents had better get used to it, for she was an independent being, not some little girl constantly whining that she was lonely. Although the truth was that sometimes she was lonely. Athena's lifestyle was totally out there, and even though Max tried to keep up, at times it was all too much. Early on, Max had decided to stick it out until she made a real name for herself. Only then would she return to L.A.

Half of Hyton Abbey's extensive grounds were kept in pristine order. The lawns were picture-perfect green and neatly mowed, the numerous rosebushes and banks of colorful flowers blossomed. Tall, stately trees adorned the property. This was all on the public side of Hyton. Behind the scenes, where paying visitors were not allowed to venture, it was a vastly different story. Overgrown, unkempt grass scattered with fast-growing weeds; a stagnant pond filled with water, a slick of green slime floating on the surface; old pool furniture rusting beside an empty, leaf-filled swimming pool.

Whenever the London sun came out-which was rare-Athena and Max laid threadbare crested towels over the rusting pool furniture and sunbathed. Today was one of those days.

"I should have taken advantage of the free drugs last night," Athena ruminated. "Such a damn waste not to."

"Why didn't you?" Max responded, adjusting her bikini top.

"'Cause you ran away, you rotten spoilsport," Athena complained, yanking the top half of her bikini off and throwing it on the ground. "Don't you simply hate feeling confined?"

"I've noticed that you do. Tits on display whenever you feel like it."

"You should take your top off too," Athena suggested. "Free up those luscious boobies."

"No way," Max said, trying not to stare at Athena's outrageous nipples attached to her almost flat chest.

"Why not?"